Gift of Grace
by Glaceregina
Summary: Personally, I hated the Harry’s character in the fifth book. So let Harry have a bit more spine, add a touch of cunning, a blessing of beauty, and see how he handles his fifth year…
1. Dudley's Decision

**Gift of Grace**

**Disclaimer: This is fanfiction.**

Personally, I hated the Harry's character in the fifth book. So let Harry have a bit more spine, add a touch of sharpness, a blessing of beauty, and see how he handles his fifth year…

-excerpt from _**Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix**_, **Dudley Demented** page 16-

_Harry stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waited._

'…_squealed like a pig, didn't he?' Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others._

'_Nice right hook, Big D,' said Piers._

'_Same time tomorrow?' said Dudley._

'_Round at my place, my parents will be out,' said Gordon._

'_See you then,' said Dudley._

'_Bye, Dud!'_

'_See ya, Big D!'_

_Harry waited for the rest of the gang to move on before setting off again. When their voices faded once more he headed around the corner into Magnolia Crescent and by walking very quickly he soon came within hailing distance of Dudley, who was strolling along at his ease, humming tunelessly._

**-Chapter One: Dudley's Decision-**

"Hey, Big D!"

Dudley turned.

"Oh," he grunted, "It's you."

Harry said nothing, falling into step beside his larger cousin. Glancing back, he saw their shadows, wavering in the newly lit street lamps, but distinctly different in shape. Dudley's shadow was darker, huge and hulking, whereas Harry's was long and slim, lithely ribboning behind Harry's light footsteps.

"How long have you been 'Big D', then?" Harry said casually, breaking the silence.

"Shut it," snapped Dudley, turning away.

"Cool name, Harry continued, grinning. "But you'll always be 'Ickle Diddykins' to me."

"I said, SHUT IT!" Dudley reiterated harshly, his hands curling into ham like fists.

Harry, satisfied at his success at needling his cousin, let it go. Dudley wasn't finished though.

"Think you're a big man carrying that _thing_, don't you?" Dudley sneered.

"What thing?" Harry said, knowing perfectly well _what thing_ Dudley was referring to. Dudley glared at him. Still grinning, Harry reaching into his pocket and pulled out his wand. It seemed to sigh as it rested familiarly in his hand, gentling urging Harry to use it. Resigned to the fact he wouldn't be able to use it until school, he settled for twirling it between his fingers.

"You're not allowed," Dudley said immediately, his eyes looking sideways at it warily, as Harry expertly wove it along his fingers. "I know you're not. You'll get expelled from that freak school you go to."

"How do you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?"

"They haven't," Dudley said unconvincingly.

Harry laughed softly.

Made nervous by the appearance of the wand, Dudley sneered, "You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" Harry cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Not satisfied at Harry's coolness, he continued, "You just wait 'til I tell dad you had that thing out-"

"Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's wand?"

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.

"This _is_ night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."

"I mean when you're in bed!" Dudley said, strangely triumphant.

They both stopped walking. Harry stared at Dudley. This inconsequential conversation he was having with his cousin was taking a darker turn.

Dudley took Harry's sudden attention as an indication to go on.

"I heard you last night," Dudley sneered. "Talking in your sleep. _Moaning._"

"What d'ya mean?" Harry clenched his teeth together. There was a cold, plunging sensation in his stomach. He had revisited the graveyard last night in his dreams.

Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter, and adopted a high pitched whimpering voice.

"Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric! Who's Cedric-your boyfriend?" Dudley taunted.

Harry's first reaction would have, _should have _been instant anger, perhaps he should point his wand at Dudley- cast a curse, yes, it would be good to torment him, after all the years of hell he had put Harry through. However, Harry had a second thought that made him bring that rage down- that such a rash action would accomplish nothing except trouble for himself, trouble with Dudley- maybe Vernon and Petunia would finally make good on their threats to cast Harry out- trouble with Hogwarts, the ministry- no. It wasn't worth it. The anger simmering within him wouldn't let it slide though, and there _was_ merit to Dudley's question, as flippant as it was-

"Cedric Diggory was a good friend, a good person, and he was murdered by the same people that killed _your_ aunt and uncle, _my_ parents." Harry's voice was articulate and icily bitter. Dudley's first expression was disbelief, but the look in Harry's dark emerald eyes stopped that disbelief cold.

The cousins regarded each other for what seemed like an awkward, awkward age.

"I know you don't like my parents-god knows why, since you've never met them- and you don't like me for _whatever_ reason, but your mother and my mother were still sisters, and we're still family." Harry paused, giving Dudley time to absorb that, and then continued.

"I also know that you don't know Cedric. But he's dead, Dudley, and _you have no right to disrespect his memory!_" Harry coldly gazed at Dudley a little longer, and then turned away. He started walking again, heading towards an alleyway, Dudley following a few beats after.

"Harry," Dudley began tentatively, sensing, for perhaps the first time in his life, that he had gone too far. Sure, he was a bully, but _murder_ was another bucket of worms altogether.

"Harry," he tried again. "I'm sorry."

At this, Harry turned to Dudley again. "Are you, Dudley?" Harry said. His voice wasn't mocking, just tired. "Are you really?"

Dudley felt uncomfortable. He really wasn't good at this 'sorry' stuff. "How…how d'ya," he left it hanging but Harry knew what he was talking about.

"I was there, Dud. They killed him in front of me." There wasn't much you could say to that. Dudley felt all at once relieved and horrible. Relieved that the sheer _chill_ that was in Harry's voice had warmed a bit, but horrified at the thought of actually seeing-

An icy wind swept suddenly through his vast body, and he let out an odd, shuddering gasp. Harry looked sharply at him.

"What are-" Harry began but broke off, glancing swiftly about as a thick, black fog steadily stole the stars from the rapidly darkening sky. The lamplights dissolved, and then he couldn't see anything at all. With a sickening lurch in his stomach, he quickly realised why this darkness was so familiar.

"C-c-cold," Dudley choked out, shivering violently. He was somewhere to Harry's left. His frightened voice quickly snapped towards Harry. "W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!" Harry strained his ears for sound, any sound. He couldn't even hear cars passing by.

"I c-can't see! What have you done to my eyes?"

Frustrated at his frightening senseless, Harry directed his voice at where he thought Dudley was. "You think _I've_ made you blind?" Harry retorted incredulously. "I'm not the one that enjoys beating up small children for sport!"

There was silence, as the pair's shivering reached new, intense levels.

"Wh-what, then?" Dudley mumbled plaintively. Harry gritted his teeth as his sense of touch rapidly deserted him. It helped to focus on Dudley.

"Dudley, I need you to do exactly as I tell you," Harry ordered with forced calm.

"Why? Har-Harry are you sure y-you're not d-doing this-s?

Harry almost lost his temper. With supreme effort he managed to grind out, "Dudley, for love of God, _think_ about this! You don't know a thing about magic. I do. I know what's going on, and I know how to get us out. You don't. Who are you gonna listen to? You, as completely clueless as you are? Or me?"

As Dudley's body numbed, his mind fought with himself. This was a marked day for Dudley Dursley. First he had learned that, yeah, his cousin was his cousin with…_feelings._ And he had actually said sorry! Now…and now he had to trust Harry. Could he? Dudley was dumb, but he wasn't stupid. Images of a beaten up Harry, usually at his and his friend's hands, flashed through his mind. He remembered that broken, little Harry, the odd, tiny boy who never hurt anyone. If Harry wanted revenge, this was the perfect time for him. Again, for the first time, Dudley felt remorse at his treatment of Harry, and not for completely selfish reasons, either. He could fight his way out of here, he knew that. But Harry…never hurt anyone…

"What do we do?" Dudley asked, softly, but surely. Unseen, Harry raised his eyebrows at Dudley's sudden change of heart. Could it have been something he said?

"Right," Harry said hurriedly, but clearly, " Don't panic, just listen. This is a Dementor-like-like vampires, but ghost vampires.

Dudley swallowed convulsively. "Right," he shakily agreed.

"Now what I mean is that-don't panic- they float, they're big, and like to eat souls.

"Wh-what?!" Dudley half shrieked.

"Don't panic. Breathe," Harry said.

"They have a weakness." Harry was speaking very rapidly now. He kept his wand close, deciding not to use it yet, the last thing he needed was for Dudley to panic. They could both hear a faint rattling sound, a harsh, hollow breathing get louder and closer in front of them.

"Fuck," Harry muttered as he realised that he could hear the same sounds behind him. "There's two of them?"

"_There's two of them?!"_

"Dudley, they have a weakness! Think happy thoughts!"

"I-I- IT'S TOUCHING ME-!"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, DUDLEY!" Fuck, fuck –happy thoughts- fuck -_concentrate_-

"Expecto Patronum!" A silvery wisp faint flashed their faces with a cold glow. The Dementor reared back, but the wisp died out plunging them in darkness again. Icy fingers seemed to crawl across Harry's heart. Lashing out in shock, he hissed as his fingers struck something hard, perhaps the wall, and he dropped his wand.

"No!" Harry groaned, distraught, "Dammit-need light-lumos-!"

Somehow, a ball of white light appeared above them, cutting through the miasma-Harry was to busy blessing it to think about the fact that it hadn't been issued from his wand. He snatched his wand off the ground. Seeing the Dementor reach for Dudley again caused Harry to do something very brave and possibly stupid. Gathering the ultimate joy he felt when he beheld his first Hogwarts meal- able to eat whatever he liked!-he lunged at the Dementor. It was like piercing his flesh with icy knives but he brought his wand up to the Dementor's centre and yelled "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A radiant stag burst forth from its tip, blasting the Dementor into nothingness. The other Dementor, who had been reaching for Harry from behind, gave a low howl as the stag crushed it under its antlers and hooves. It swooped away, defeated and alone. Suddenly, the alleyway in which they had been trapped flooded with light again; the stars and moon winking back into existence. The low hum of traffic reappeared, but Harry fixed his eyes on his cousin, who had fallen somewhere during the darkness.

"Dud? Dudley?" he called. Idly, he wondered what Dudley, who had gotten everything he had ever wanted, would have been forced to see?

With no little effort, a still slightly shivering Dudley lifted his bloodless face towards Harry. "You- you made them go away."

"Yeah."

"With your freaky ma-with your powers."

"Yeah."

"…thanks, Harry." Harry just nodded. He noticed that Dudley, like him, was still feeling the Dementor affect.

"Dudley, have you got any chocolate? " Harry had to smile slightly. Dudley always had chocolate on him.

"Yeah," Dudley said, fishing out a couple of king sized Mars Bars.

"Eat it, it'll make the cold go away," Harry advised. Dudley quickly opened one and took a bite, savouring the surprising warmth that swiftly blossomed in his body. He then looked at Harry, no longer that tiny or broken but still smaller than himself, leaning wearily against the wall, shivering. He looked at the extra mars bar.

After while, it sailed across, landing in Harry lap. Harry picked it up examining the…peace offering? Looking at Dudley, he took a bite, and smiled as it chased away the cold. He opened his mouth to say something when he heard loud, running footsteps. Instinctively, he made to put away his wand, when he remembered. _His wand._ He had used his wand. In the presence of a muggle.

Even as Mrs Figg appeared at the entrance, Harry was still staring grimly at his wand, his eyes narrowed as he calculated events. This was his 'third' offence. He remembered the time he blew up Aunt Marge, later accessing his Ministrial records, he saw that the incident had been waved off, but chalked it up to the Minister pulling a bit of weight. He was a fool now if he thought he still had the Minister's favour though, with all that Voldemort business last year.

But…there had to be some law on self defence. Well, he would have to figure something out. He turned to Mrs Figg, belatedly remembering that she was a muggle, and he still had his wand out. He made to casually slide his wand in his pocket, like a knick knack he had been playing with when she shrieked-

"Keep that wand out, idiot boy! What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to _kill_ Mundungdus Fletcher!"

Muggle? Maybe not then.

* * *

Walking between a still slightly shaken Dudley who was searching for more chocolate in his pockets, and his newly discovered squib neighbour Mrs Figg, Harry was listening intently. 

"…Keep your wand out," She told Harry as they entered Wisteria Walk. "Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay…" She rambled on a bit more when Harry picked up "...talk about Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery…this was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of- What's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr Prentice-"

"Hold on- Mrs Figg- wait!" Harry interrupted. He stopped walking, forcing his companions to stop walking as well.

"What is it? We have to get you home-"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I need to know some things first," Seeing that she was about to start up again, Harry quickly alluded to the danger of ignorance and pointed out that it was better to be prepared, if Dementors and such dangers were on the loose. Mrs Figg reluctantly agreed.

'First, why is there going to be hell to pay?" Harry quoted. Mrs Figg became flustered.

"The ministry, oh Dumbledore will sort things out! I-"

"Sort what out?" Mrs Figg struggled to find an answer.

"Look, it's obviously to do with me…and the ministry?" Harry prodded. Mrs Figg gave a nod.

"And the 'Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery'…" Harry narrowed his eyes as he slowly thought it out. "I acted in self defence though. The ministry surely will see that the Dementors-"

"Exactly Harry! The Dementors-"

"Are under control of the ministry!" Harry's eyes widened, startled that he hadn't realised that before. "That means that whoever sent them-"

"is also in the Ministry!" Mrs Figg ended in a hushed whisper. Her small eyes were frightened as she leaned towards Harry. "You have enemies in the Ministry, Harry, that's why we _have to be careful!_" She continued to ramble about some Mundungus, but Harry had lost interest. He looked at Dudley, who had been munching on a twirl, not really seeing him.

It was always like this ever since he had entered the Wizarding World at the tender age of eleven, the whispering, the rumours, the politics, the dark plots…But he was older now, and someone in the Ministry, the wizarding _government_, had just tried to kill him. This person must have power and influence to send the Dementors so far away from Azkaban.

Mrs Figg was right. He had to be careful, cautious about this unknown power. But he would be damned if he was just going to let things lie. Who was this person? One person or many? Associates with Voldemort? Or another factor altogether?

Thinking about it, Harry began to wonder about himself. Talking about power, did he, Harry Potter, the 'boy who lived' have any power?

Certainly something to think about. But for now…

"Dudley."

"Yeah, Harry?"

"Your Dad isn't going to like our story."

"Yeah, he doesn't know about them…Dementy-whatsits?" Dudley tried the word out, shivering in remembrance.

"Listen, Dud, cover story time, how about we say that we had an accident…."

* * *

**Right. This chapter copies a lot of the canon chapter, but that's only the beginning. Like I said in the summary, I don't like Harry in OotP. I think he could have handled some of the situations differently. So the storyline will deviate, but key events like the Ministry Hearing, Umbridge as High Inquisitor, St Mungos, and the DA will still happen, I just want to see how this smarter, stronger Harry meets them.**

**Dudley is not going to be a crucial character, but there's definately going to be bridges mended between him and Harry, I've got ideas for Dudley. ""cackles evilly""**

**Reviews appreciated as always, it's good to know if what I'm writing is interesting/utterly boring and suggestions on Harry's character, alliances and relationships are very welcome.**

**Cheers!**


	2. Destination Unknown

**-Chapter Two: Destination Unknown-**

Harry was once again reminded why he severely disliked the ministry. They seriously had to have the worst sense of timing ever! Things were going so well too…

"OWLS!" yelled Uncle Vernon, the well worn vein in his temple pulsing angrily as he slammed the kitchen window shut. "OWLS AGAIN! I WILL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OWLS IN MY HOUSE!"

…'well' meaning that they had accepted Dudley's story of roughhousing with his mates and falling over, anyway. The problem was that he had forgotten to take into account his and Vernon's angrily rude exchange earlier that day. Just as he was trying to apologize and soothe Uncle Vernon's temper, the owl just _had_ to fly in…Harry ripped open the envelope and quickly scanned the letter. He froze. His relative's voices washed over him, vague and indistinct. The phrase '_resulted in your expulsion'_ stabbed sharply at him, and an icy blanket settled over his shoulders. In total disbelief, he read through the letter twice more.

_Expulsion._ Harry felt his stomach plummet at the thought of never seeing his home again.

"Dad!" Dudley near yelled. Three pairs of eyes swivelled towards him. At the sudden attention he received, Dudley hesitated, then hardened. "Dad," he said quietly but with more seriousness than he'd ever possessed in his entire life. "Harry helped me. Helped me get home."

There was an awkward silence as Vernon deflated slightly. "Oh." Harry's uncle said uncertainly, shooting a glance at his frozen nephew.

Dudley turned towards Harry. "I-thanks, Harry." Petunia burst into sobs, reaching out to clutch at Dudley. "S-So sweet, Dudders….s-such a lovely b-boy…s-saying thankyou…"

Harry stared at Dudley for a few seconds. It was just his luck that as soon as his relationship with his family was looking to get better, the worst thing possible happened to him. He convulsively gripped his letter.

CRACK! Harry whipped his head around. Sourcing the noise he sprinted over to the window and swiftly relieved the barn owl of the second message. Ignoring Uncle Vernon's anguished yell of "OWLS!" he unfurled it. Reading the short missive, he almost broke into hysterical laughter. Two sets of instructions, no foreseeable good outcomes…expulsion…Holding the two letters side by side, his mind was racing. One thing was clear to him, he agreed with Mr Weasley; his wand would not leave him. Harry loved nothing else more than he loved his wand.

It was almost dreamlike-no-_nightmarish_, with his world falling around him in Aunt Petunia's surgically clean kitchen, his only relatives looking at him with confused expressions. Assessing Vernon's temple vein, which had taken much stress in the past hour, Harry concluded that it was time to remove himself from the situation.

"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, may I please be excused" Seeing a contrary 'no' forming on Uncle Vernon's lips, Harry quickly said. "If I go upstairs, the owls won't bother us." That _was_ true, if he went upstairs the owls wouldn't bother "us"; they could simply deliver them under the cover of darkness at his window, for Harry was sure there were more coming. He _had_ to believe that there were more coming; that this was not the end. It didn't take long for Harry's uncle to come to the obvious decision.

"Go, then."

Returning Dudley's half smile, Harry lightly ran up the stairs. Entering his dark bedroom, he opened his window and then quickly began to retrieve his things from all over his room, throwing them haphazardly in his trunk. He made a mental note to purchase a compartmentalised trunk ASAP. Or maybe even not a trunk, maybe something easier to carry, like that camper's backpack Dudley received a few years back. Looking despairingly around, he saw that he wasn't even halfway through packing yet and the "ministry representatives" could be here any minute. Harry pinched his thigh. _That'll teach me to be disorganised_ he chastised himself.

The third owl that evening swept through the window, deposited its message into Harry's eager hands, and flew out.

'_Dear Mr Potter…disciplinary hearing on the 12__th__ of August…suspended from school pending further enquiries…'_

Harry sank onto his bed, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes with pure _relief;_ that he wasn't going to be expelled, that Dumbledore had persuaded the ministry to be lenient, that-

Harry's eyes snapped open, a sudden surge anger dispelling both the fear and relief in his heart. Why in Merlin's name was he thinking himself grateful to Dumbledore, thankful to the ministry, when nothing in this godscursed situation was _his fault in the first place!_

Narrowing his eyes, he glanced down at the signature on the letter:

_With best wishes,_ (My _ass!_ Harry thought viciously)

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

Fishing the first letter out of his pocket, he looked at the signature there and found it to be identical. Stretching his memory back, he firmly believed that it was the same woman who had sent him those 'Improper use of magic' letters in his second and third year.

Mafalda Hopkirk.

Grimly, he stored her name away for future deliberation.

Throwing the last of his things into his trunk- (he really needed to get organised!) the fourth owl whizzed in. Harry recognised Sirius's writing.

_Arthur has just told us what's happened. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do._

One word: Inadequate. Everything was inadequate. The ministry, these letters, the justice system, his supposed protection-Everything!

It just gave credit to the old adage: If you want something done right**, **_**do it yourself!**_

Harry mentally ground that sentence in to his head. He had not been stupid, but he had been something almost as bad. Naïve. Inexperienced. Lazy, even.

Grabbing a bit of parchment, he quickly scrawled a terse letter to Sirius:

_I've just been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here. _

He read the letter again, and gave a humourless smile. Foolish. He should know by now that Sirius was not going to give him any information. He screwed it up and chucked it in the bin. On another scrap of parchment he considered what he was going to write.

At the start of the holidays he had thought that he would be at The Burrow with the Weasleys fairly soon; or at least be kept informed by his friends. Those wishes had slowly been torn to shreds, with each denial of a reply he had received. Harry clenched his fist. How was it that he, the one in the middle of all this, knew nothing?

_Perhaps that's the problem_ a little voice in his head whispered. _You're so in the __middle__ of it that you can't see what's going on._

_Well I can't help that!_ Harry snapped back at the voice. He was the bloody Boy Who Lived- a beacon of light, so to speak.

He briefly remembered one of his primary school teachers saying to another teacher that the only way to keep an eye on all the children in the classroom was to stand at the doorway. To be at the edge, with a full view of everything that was going on.

Harry _liked_ that idea.

But how to make it work? Shaking his head, he added that to the ever growing mental list.

Looking back down at the parchment he wrote:

_Dear Sirius,_

_I'm intact, thanks for asking. Are you planning for me to stay here til September the first, by any chance?_

_Harry_

With better timing than the idiots at the Ministry, Hedwig swooped in, a dead frog clamped in her beak.

"Hedwig," Harry greeted his only companion for four weeks. "Deliver this to Sirius okay, girl?" He tied the missive to her leg. Just as she made to swoop out into the night again, Harry said, more to himself than her,

"Don't expect a reply."

* * *

"So these are your boxing trophies, then?"

"Yeah," Dudley said. The two cousins were seated at the floor of Dudley's bedroom, eating crisps. He proudly pointed to one larger than the rest. "That's the one that got me the title, y'know"

"Cool," Harry said approvingly, being a patron and trophy winner of dangerous sports himself. It was three days later and Harry and Dudley were tentatively forming…something. Not quite a friendship, but a bond nonetheless. Vernon and Petunia didn't know what to make of it. They appeared to accept it, but it was more like they were putting it out of their minds, not wanting to deal with the sudden change in the dynamics of the household.

Dudley got up and showed Harry the move that had led to the KO of his opponent on the punching bag Vernon had gotten for him last Christmas.

"…you sorta lock your arm and snap it forward…"

Harry looked on interestedly. Maybe he should consider learning to box or something, he thought, might be useful in situations where he didn't have his wand. He added it to _the list_.

"And then bang! He was out."

"Wicked," Harry said. Dudley sat down on his bed.

"So d'ya have, well," he looked up at the doorway to check that his mum wasn't near, "wizard sport?" Harry nodded. "Quidditch!"

"Kwid-?"

"Quidditch." Harry repeated. "You know how in fairy tales wizards ride on broomsticks?"

"Yeah…wait…" Dudley wrinkled his brow, the proverbial light bulb appearing above his head, "you mean to say that, that broom in your room…?"

"Yup! Flying!"

"Awesome!"

The two cousins grinned at each other.

* * *

As soon as the Dursleys left the house to go collect some lawn prize or something, Harry quickly bookmarked his History of Magic textbook, and went downstairs. Spending a few precious minute poking around in various cupboards, he finally located the folder in which Uncle Vernon kept his bank statements. Careful to memorise where everything went, he deftly searched through some papers until he found one he could vaguely understand.

"Opening Balance…deposits…withdrawals….dividend…descriptor…'the hell do these all mean?" Harry thought out loud. He wrote the terms down to be researched in an old notebook of Dudley's he had found on the bookshelf in his room. Harry most definitely did _not_ intend to go to Gringotts completely ignorant. Flicking through more bank statements, he started to grasp a vague idea of how the banking system worked. _The only problem being, of course, is whether the goblins at Gringotts work in the same way as these muggle banks_, he thought ruefully. Ah well, he would just have to make a visit to Gringotts and ask the goblins or something because he had no idea whatsoever about ….Harry hit himself on the head. Stupid! Of course there were people he could innocuously get information from: Mr Weasley…Sirius…Remus…

He put the statements away and painstakingly made sure that everything looked untouched.

Trooping back upstairs, he slid the notebook into the pocket in his jeans, right next to his wand. He had been busy in the past four days. Between hanging out with Dudley, and generally confusing his aunt and uncle, Harry had carefully sorted through everything he owned and everything he knew. It was surprising to find out just how little he both had and knew once he had cleared away all the junk. Now his room was scrupulously neat, with his trunk, firebolt and cauldron stacked next to Hedwig's cage, ready to go at a moments notice. As for what he didn't know, well that was all in his notebook. Lists upon lists he had made when he had been confined to his room. It had been surprisingly soothing, but he was starting to truly feel cooped up in here. Sitting down, he retrieved his History of Magic book, and continued reading.

Harry had just finished the chapter titled, _The Rise of the Noble Houses_, when, quite distinctly, he heard a crash in the kitchen below.

* * *

'_It's all right Harry. We've come to take you away.' Take me away to where is what I want to know_ Harry thought, as they swerved on their broomsticks to avoid being sighted by a stargazing muggle. The velvet curtain of night softly obscured his vision; he could only hope that his 'guard' knew where they were going. To keep himself occupied he eyed his companions, committing their names and faces to memory. After all, Harry had a very strong suspicion that they were part of what Professor Dumbledore had referred to as 'the old crowd' last year.

**Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody** Old, paranoid, retired Auror.

**Remus Lupin** Werewolf friend of Dad's.

**Nymphadora 'Tonks'** Young, metamorphmagus Auror.

**Kingsley Shacklebolt** Tall, black, bald Auror.

**Elphias Doge** Wheezy voiced, silver haired, old wizard.

**Dedalus Diggle** Excitable fan who he'd met twice before.

**Emmeline Vance** Stately looking witch.

**Sturgis Podmore** Wizard with a square jaw and thick, straw coloured hair.

**Hestia Jones** Black haired, cheerful witch.

All of them seemed to know his parents Harry had noted as they introduced each other, upon Harry finding them as he went down to the kitchen to investigate the crash. Perhaps his parents themselves were part of this…group.

"Time to start the descent!" came Lupin's voice. "Follow Tonks, Harry!"

They touched down in front of a row of grimy houses. Harry immediately pulled out his wand. Was this where the 'headquarters' Professor Lupin had mentioned as their destination was located?

"Here," Moody muttered, thrusting a piece of parchment into Harry's hand. "Read quickly and memorise."

Harry looked down at the piece of paper.

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Looks like 'the old crowd' had a name. Harry looked up and stepped forward, eager to find out more.

* * *

**Okay, that whole boxing thing with Dudley? I cheerfully admit that I have no clue about boxing. So to those who are boxing literate, I apologise for any mistake I might have (probably did) made.**

**To those that reviewed: Cheers people! Cyber chocolates for all of you!**

**To those that left suggestions: Your ideas are great and I'm considering them all. With the pairings suggested, well it's still all up in the air, the only thing I know for certain is that Harry is definately not going to have a harem.**

**As always, more reviews and suggestions are appreciated!**

**Thanks!**


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